Reach Out and Touch
by Wilusa
Summary: In the reality of my previous fics: After all they've been through, both Reva and Jeffrey discover they can't snap back to normal as quickly as they'd hoped. This will probably be my last GL fic. In six stories, I've said everything I wanted to say.
1. Reva

DISCLAIMER: Guiding Light and its characters are the property of Procter & Gamble; no copyright infringement is intended.

x

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_And if we lose our way,_

_We'll find each other._

_I reach out and touch you,_

_And all my fear is gone._

(From the former Guiding Light theme, "Hold On to Love.")

x

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_**Saturday night/Sunday morning.**_

Reva came suddenly awake.

_For, what is it, the fourth time?_

She lay very still in the dark bedroom. Allowed only one part of her body to move.

Her lips...which curved up in a blissful smile.

Yes, Jeffrey was all right. After a nightmarish year in which she'd believed him dead, he was really here with her...

Their first few minutes in bed had been awkward. But once she understood that he still loved and desired her, but was too debilitated to "perform" sexually - and he understood that she was okay with that, loved him just as much, still saw him as her hero - they'd been able to relax, and they'd begun gently caressing each other. Intending it not as foreplay, but simply as a means of helping each other become even more relaxed. Getting super-comfortable together.

And it _had_ turned out to be foreplay. When Jeffrey didn't feel any pressure to "perform," he'd surprised himself by being able to.

The sex, when it came, had been as great as ever.

Now his nude body was spooned up behind hers - both of them lying on their right sides, because he'd admitted he still had pain on the left side from his recent wounds. His left arm was draped loosely over her; the very _casualness_ of that position delighted her. Even more delightful: her hair, still damp from the shower, stirred with his every breath.

She knew she kept waking because she was worried about him. Concerned for his health - afraid that after all he'd been through this past year, he might die in his sleep.

But each time she woke, he'd been sleeping as peacefully as he was now. Lying still; taking easy, regular breaths. She had every reason to believe he was comfortable, getting a good night's rest.

_As I should!_

Still smiling, she closed her eyes, and snuggled ever-so-slightly closer to him. _Pleasant dreams, my love..._

Sure she'd have pleasant dreams of her own, she sank back into sleep.

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When she woke again, it was broad daylight.

She was alone.

She sat up in bed and looked around, confused.

_Wh-where's Jeffrey?_

_**Jeffrey? Where is he?**_

And all at once, she snapped.

_**Oh my God, he was never here! All those things I thought happened, they never did. Jeffrey is dead. And I've finally lost my mind lost my mind lost my mind LOST MY MIND!**_

She was too far gone to remember Colin. She began shrieking, at the top of her lungs. Not even getting out a recognizable word like "Help!" - just mindless, ear-splitting shrieks.

But then, uncomprehending, she heard other cries. A horrified male yell, and a baby's wails.

A moment later someone's arms were around her, and a scared voice - a very _familiar_ voice - was asking, "Reva, what's wrong? What happened? Are you hurt somehow?"

"Ohh..." She began rocking compulsively. "Oh my God..._Jeffrey? _Are you really here?"

"Really here? Of course I am..." His voice trailed off. After a beat, he moaned, and said miserably, "Oh God. What have I done?"

Now she was taking sobbing, gasping breaths. And it was Jeffrey who was rocking her, holding her tight.

She clutched him in turn - marveling at the solidity, the blessedly living warmth, of his still-naked body.

After a few minutes, she swallowed hard, and made herself say, "I-I woke up alone. And I th-thought you'd never been here." Her voice rose up the scale as she wailed, "I thought I was losing my _mind_..."

"It's okay, it's okay," he told her. "Just take deep breaths, try to calm down. You'll be all right. I'm so sorry I scared you! _I'm_ the one needs to have my head examined!"

She gave a semi-hysterical giggle at that.

And realized she'd been pawing him so desperately, the poor man would surely be black-and-blue.

Feeling more herself every minute, she saw how unreasoning her panic had been. If she'd just looked at the bed, she would have seen unmistakable signs that another person had shared it with her. And the scent of his maleness, the scent of their sweaty lovemaking, had lingered.

"Wh-where were you?" she asked. But before he could answer, she heard Colin crying - as he'd doubtless been doing all along. And she knew.

"I woke up when I heard Colin," Jeffrey explained. "Went to change his diaper. I was so proud of myself, because I knew right off it was his dirty-diaper cry and not one of his other cries! But I shouldn't have left you alone."

"You didn't do anything wrong! But oh God, _Colin_ - I must have scared both of you half out of your wits!" Now she was struggling to free herself from Jeffrey's embrace, and get out of bed. _"Is Colin all right?"_

"Don't worry!" He held her tight, planted a firm kiss on her forehead. "I didn't drop him, or stick him with a pin or anything. I put him back in his crib, so he can't possibly get hurt.

"But he will be sort of _uncomfortable_ till I get back to him. I'd just started cleaning him up."

"Oh, my poor baby! I don't understand. I always wake up when he cries..." And then, suddenly, she saw the explanation. "Ohhh...I didn't sleep soundly last night. I woke up something like four times because I was worried about you. So I was sleeping like a log this morning, when Colin needed me!"

"When he needed one or the other of us," Jeffrey corrected her gently.

She was crying, but she smiled through her tears. "I'm sure he needs to see _both_ of us now."

x

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Fifteen minutes later, Colin was clean and content - for the moment. Reva and Jeffrey were slightly more "dressed."

But they were still sitting on the edge of their unmade bed, fondling each other.

After a good night's sleep, Jeffrey looked more haggard than he had the day before. _And I'm to blame_, Reva thought wretchedly. _My God - my screaming like that could have given him a heart attack or stroke!_

"I think we should make a pact," he told her now. "For the foreseeable future - till we're both sure we don't need it - neither of us will leave the other alone in a room, asleep, for any reason."

"Neither of us?" She knew he was just trying to be kind. "You wouldn't be scared if you woke up alone!"

But he looked into her eyes, very seriously. "I'm not so sure of that. It was important to me, this morning, to see and feel you beside me.

"Consider this. Even when you thought you'd lost your mind, you at least knew where you were. Right?"

"Y-yes."

"If I woke up alone, after all the time I'd been traveling, I might have been so disoriented that I wouldn't recognize our bedroom. People might have heard _my_ screams a mile away!"

In an earlier era, she realized, her own screams would have brought concerned neighbors - or police! - to their door. _Thank God - under the circumstances - times have changed._ Nowadays, screams heard at any hour tended to be dismissed as loud, violent TV programming. Neighbors who'd heard her wouldn't even have bothered to figure out which nearby house was the source of the cries.

She didn't believe, for a second, that _Jeffrey_ would have screamed.

But the disorientation, the fear? That was possible.

Stroking his face, she said softly, "Maybe the only problem, for either of us, would have been this first morning."

"Maybe. But I'm not willing to take a chance on it. So will you agree to do what I suggested?"

She frowned. "Let me get this straight. If you've fallen asleep in the living room while we're watching TV, you want me to wake you up with the exciting news that I'm going to the bathroom?"

"Of course," he said earnestly. "How else could I ask you to bring me a beer on your way back?"

x

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At breakfast, she knew he was still watching her every move. Still, lovingly, concerned for her.

So she wasn't surprised when he said, "Are you sure you want to go to that wedding today? You don't have to, you know!"

They'd discussed it the previous day, and agreed that he couldn't go _with_ her to Rick and Mindy's wedding. Her "dead" husband's turning up alive would create a furor that would ruin the day for the bride and groom. And she herself wasn't really expected; she'd made her acceptance of the invitation conditional, without explaining why.

"Oh, I do still want to go!"

She'd blurted that out without thinking; then she paused to consider the reasons.

"I want to see another couple starting their marriage, and imagine them being just as happy together, for just as long, as we'll be. Want to do it while I have this wonderful secret - knowing, like no one else can, the heights of happiness love can bring. _Dizzying_ heights, when you find it again after you've thought all was lost!

"And...this may seem corny, but I'm glad for a reason to go to church today. I could give thanks to God anywhere, but doing it in church...feels right."

Jeffrey was smiling now. But he still said, "You're sure - so soon after what happened this morning - that you'll be okay when you're away from me?"

She looked past the smile. Saw his troubled eyes, his furrowed brow.

_Damn it - sorry, God. I could kick myself for having caused him this much anxiety! I wish I could somehow make it up to him..._

"I won't be alone," she reminded him. "I'll be with Jonathan, seeing Shayne and Marina." _And yes, Josh_. "All the people who know you're alive. There's no chance I'll lose touch with reality."

Then she grinned. "I really do have to go through with the plan. I can't have my _children_, Shayne and Jonathan, thinking you rode their mother so hard last night that today, she can't walk!"

Jeffrey started to laugh.

And broke up completely when she got to her feet, and headed for the bathroom - waddling like a duck.

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She really had needed the bathroom visit. By the time she got back, she'd thought of another possible problem.

"Will you be okay while I'm gone, sweetheart? Minding three kids - have you ever done that?"

He was still relaxed and smiling. "Yes I'll be okay, and no I've never done it. But I'm looking forward to it! I love them all - can't wait to see Henry and Sarah again."

After the adults got together the day before, Jonathan had told Reva the real reason he'd persuaded her to put all but one of her photos of Jeffrey away. (And to keep that one on the living-room mantel - a _high _mantel_.) _Sarah had gotten to know Jeffrey in North Carolina. And Jonathan had been afraid to bring her into the house with those photos there - he couldn't have explained his smart little girl's telling Reva the man in the photos was her "Grandpa"!

"I'll have a great time with the kids," Jeffrey assured her now. "I don't suppose you still have - uh, no. Of course you don't."

"Of course I don't still have _what?_"

"Ice cream in the freezer," he said, with a shrug. " 'Course you don't have it, when you were planning to leave town yesterday."

"Of course I _do_ have it," she told him. "Going with Josh was a last-minute decision. I'd gotten all the normal groceries in, in case I decided not to go. Figured Shayne and Jonathan could split them, if need be.

"But you knew all that. So you weren't really thinking of ice cream. What _were_ you thinking of?"

He didn't seem willing to meet her eyes.

"Jeffrey. If you're wondering...I've kept a lot of your things. You haven't seen them because they're, uh, stored in the basement."

_Damn! "Stored in the basement" seems so cold_.

She'd let well-meaning family convince her his belongings should be moved there, "just for a while," so she wouldn't have to endure the pain of seeing them every day.

He did look at her now, and asked cautiously, "Do you possibly still have...my guitar?"

Her heart melted.

"Yes, I have your guitar! The police seized all your things when they thought you'd killed John Doe, and they broke the guitar. But I had it repaired.

"And you won't have to go prowling in the basement to find it."

"I won't? Where is it?"

"Right now," she told him, "it's in the garage. Where Josh put the things I was taking with me yesterday. The important things, that I never would have parted with, even for a little while -"

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Before he swept her into his arms and silenced her with a kiss, she'd seen the light in his eyes.

_I wanted to kick myself for having caused him so much anxiety. I wished I could somehow make it up to him..._

_It seems I have_.

And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that when she walked into that church on Jonathan's arm, she'd be the happiest person there.

Happier than the bride and groom?

Yes. No contest.


	2. Jeffrey

_And if we lose our way,_

_We'll find each other._

_I reach out and touch you,_

_And all my fear is gone._

(From the former Guiding Light theme, "Hold On to Love.")

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_**Sunday night/Monday morning.**_

Jeffrey had concluded that he was dead, and he'd wound up in Hell.

That was how he thought of it now - Hell with a capital H, something he'd never really believed in.

If he _had_ believed it was real, he wouldn't have imagined its being this horrific.

The worst aspect of Hell wasn't the obvious things.

The pain. The stench. The terrible weight pressing down on him, that might or might not really be Edmund Winslow's dead body. The vomit that clogged his throat, his mouth, even his nose.

He'd somehow turned his head and spat out just enough of the vomit that he could manage to breathe. (Breathe? Why did he need to?) But he kept feeling like he was about to throw up again, and the dread of that, the desperate fight to hold it in, was far worse than the pain or the stench or the weight on him or the crazy shifts between burning-hot and freezing-cold.

But even the fight not to vomit wasn't the worst aspect of Hell.

No, the worst aspect was the hallucinations. Or false memories, or whatever they were. Not the hallucinations themselves - _they_ were more like tantalizing glimpses of Heaven - but the cruelty of being flung back, again and again, into this bitter reality. The shock didn't lessen with successive jolting returns; if anything, it hit him harder.

In the hallucinations, he held his son in his arms. Heard 17-month-old Colin - who hadn't seen him for more than a year - call him "Da-da," without any prompting.

He rolled in the grass with Reva, she wearing a green dress that was so low-cut he was tempted to rip it completely off her. She wanted him as badly as he did her, and only the presence of their baby stopped him from taking her then and there, in the field.

He wept for joy as she put his wedding ring back on his finger. Or rather, put it on his index finger, because his ring finger was now too thin.

He made love to her again - in their bed, their home.

He played his beloved guitar again, to entertain three lively children. Teased Colin about having to play nicely with his little niece and nephew - who were older than he was! Sarah, the eldest of the three, delighted "Grandpa" with her singing and dancing.

But time after time, he was thrust back into Hell. And knew that the scenes he'd imagined had never happened, never _would_ happen. All his loved ones were dead, murdered by Edmund's henchmen.

_I wasn't sent to Hell because I killed Edmund. I'm here because I __**failed to save my family.**_

_Was Reva tortured before she was killed?_

_Was she raped?_

_Was she forced to __**watch Colin being killed**__ before she died?_

His having killed Edmund didn't give him any sense of victory; he'd done it much too late.

But...he still made a final, rebellious attempt to heave Edmund's _damned _body off him.

This time, he succeeded.

Somehow, he even managed to sit up. _This is incredible!_ He was still in pain, still gasping and retching. He couldn't see, and all he could hear was a roar that was undoubtedly inside his head. But still, this sitting-up thing was a lot better.

Then he dimly heard another sound. A voice?

It gradually dawned on him that someone was holding him, supporting him in a sitting position. Had they actually lifted him, after first getting Edmund's body off him?

Was it possible that he wasn't in Hell at all? He was still in...Nicaragua?

Yes, he was in Nicaragua, and kindly Central American Indians had come to his aid! That was good. He was dying, of course. But these friendly people would help him, hold him in a sitting position, so he'd have an easier death. And maybe he wouldn't go to Hell. God would be merciful. He'd be reunited with Reva, and she'd forgive him for having failed, having made such a mess of everything...

The voice he was hearing was more insistent now. "Can you hear me, Jeffrey? Please, please! Try to squeeze my hand."

Strange, that a Central American Indian was speaking English, and sounded so much like Reva.

It was his right hand the - woman? - was holding. He managed to move it slightly.

She-who-sounds-like-Reva said, "Good, good! You're doing fine, sweetheart. Can you open your eyes? Come on, open your eyes. Look at me."

Open...eyes? He didn't understand what she was talking about.

"Okay, we're not quite there yet. But you're doing fine! Just keep breathing like you are now... Will you be okay sitting up if I let go of you, sweetheart? Just for a few seconds. I have to get to my cell phone, so I can get help for you. So I can call nine-one-one."

_Call nine-one-one?_

He suddenly came wide awake, opened his eyes, and cried out, _**"No!"**_

x

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"I had a nightmare," he said. Somewhat unnecessarily.

He was appalled by the sound of his own voice. _I sound like a pathetic, plaintive child_.

"I know, sweetheart." Reva's voice was strong and steady; but her face, he saw, was ashen. She sat beside him on the bed, her legs curled under her, and held him tight. "Are you sure you don't need me to call someone?"

"I'm sure." He tried, very hard, to stop trembling. "Had nightmares sort of like this before...in the jungle...after I killed Edmund. Always got through them okay, just sat up leaning against a tree for the rest of the night. Thought I'd never have them again, once I got home."

Except that this had been far and away the worst. Before, he'd just dreamed that Edmund's body was still on top of him, suffocating him. Hell was a new addition; so was the horror of remembering being home, and thinking the memories were hallucinations.

He looked at the bed, and couldn't understand its not being soiled. "I-I never threw up?"

"No," she told him. "You were retching, but you never vomited. What scared me most was that you were having a hard time breathing..." Now she let herself shudder. "You were mumbling about Edmund's body being on top of you. And you thought you were choking on vomit...you'd mentioned that to Josh and me before, but I didn't understand the full horror of it till now."

"I didn't _want_ you to 'understand the full horror of it'!" Still looking around, he had to ask, "_Was_ there anything on top of me?"

She gave a wan smile. "This."

A light blanket.

He shook his head. "Damn. I feel so..._weak._" In every sense of the word.

He felt sick, too. The taste in his mouth was as bad as if he really had been vomiting.

"No one has to be strong all the time," Reva told him. "I'm here for you, just like you're here when I need help.

"Can I do anything for you now?"

He nodded, a trifle sheepishly. "Could you get me a glass of water?"

"Of course! Will you be all right, sitting here, while I get it?"

"Y-yes."

He found that it wasn't easy to keep sitting upright without her help. _But I will not fall back. I can't lie down, I can't! I'll die if I lie down._

_That's crazy._

_Yes, but I can't help it. I know I'll suffocate if I lie down._

_Don't tell Reva._

Then she was back - with _two_ glasses of water, and a small basin.

"Do you have a bad taste in your mouth, sweetheart?"

He nodded mutely. _How on earth did she know?_

"Then you should start by rinsing your mouth a few times, and spitting. Pretend you're at the dentist's. Isn't _that_ fun?

"And after that you can drink some water, and you'll feel a lot better."

He gratefully did as she'd suggested. And he did feel better...though he was letting her hold him up again.

He belatedly said, "I haven't heard Colin..."

"No. Because you don't scream when you're in distress! Even when you were retching, you didn't make enough noise to wake him.

"I was terrified, though, when I couldn't wake you. I thought of yelling, but I was afraid startling you might do more harm than good."

"God. I'm sorry I scared you like that."

"Don't worry about me." Her voice was soft now, soothing. "I shouldn't have admitted I was terrified. I'm just thankful to have you with me now, safe and sound. Try to relax, okay?"

He tried.

He didn't want to go back to sleep. But he wanted, needed, to _rest_. He was tired, and his back was starting to ache...

Reva said gently, "Do you think you can lie down again, now?"

"No!" The thought of that shocked him out of his drowsiness.

_I'll suffocate if I lie down_.

But his back ached. And Reva's holding him up all this time was probably taking a toll on her.

There was one comfortable chair in the bedroom.

"Can you help me get over to that chair?" he asked. "Then I can sleep sitting up, for this one night. I'll be fine, and you can go back to bed."

She was shaking her head. Adamantly. "Not on your life! I'll get you settled over there, and I'll sleep sitting on the floor, up against your chair."

"No way! I won't have you sleeping at my feet, like a puppy!"

They'd come to an impasse. Both frustrated.

At last Reva said, "If I help you, do you think you can get downstairs? Then we can sleep sitting up on the couch, side by side."

"We can't go downstairs," he objected, "and leave Colin up here."

_I'm so ashamed! Acting like a baby myself, causing so much trouble..._

"Of course we can," Reva said calmly. "Colin's a sound sleeper - so active during the day that he almost always sleeps through the night. He'll be perfectly safe in his crib. And we'll have the baby monitor."

Jeffrey gave in, and responded with a docile "Okay."

They weren't nude this night - he was wearing pajama bottoms purchased in Managua, Reva a short nightgown. She insisted on putting his sandals on his feet (no slippers available), and dressing him in one of her robes, however ill the fit.

He was more wobbly than he'd expected; he really did need her help getting down the stairs. But she was calm and comforting. A rock.

When they reached the couch, he said fretfully, "No blanket!"

"No blanket, darling. Nothing on top of you. Just me next to you, holding your hand. Will that be all right?"

"That'll be...wonderful."

And it was.

x

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He hadn't expected to sleep at all. But the next thing he knew, he was waking...at dawn.

He felt rested and refreshed. If he'd had dreams of any kind, he didn't remember them.

Even before he opened his eyes, he'd felt Reva's fingers still interlaced with his...and smiled. Now he turned his head to look at her. Hoping she was still asleep - she'd needed it as much as he did. If she was asleep, he'd decided, he'd stay where he was and keep perfectly still, till she woke on her own.

But she was wide awake. She returned his smile, but she looked bone-weary.

_Did she get any sleep?_ he wondered. _My God, what am I doing to her?_

Before he could ask, she said, "Morning, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine," he told her. "Really! Last night - all of it - seems like a bad dream now. A silly bad dream, that I'll never have again.

"It probably didn't happen my _first_ night home because I was more tired then, slept more deeply."

_But why did it happen at all?_

_Was I just uncertain - the same way she was - that all this is real? Afraid to trust it?_

_Or was I subconsciously trying to punish myself for something? Maybe the "something" I haven't admitted to her?_

_But no one died. No one was hurt._

He pulled her closer to him, and they shared a tender kiss.

Then she said, "After last night...Jeffrey, there's something we need to talk about."

He nodded. This morning's conversation would be the same as yesterday's, with their roles reversed - _she_ wondering if _he_ was up to going through with his plan for the day.

His very _ambitious_ plan for the day.

He meant to have Frank and Vanessa over - in their capacities as police chief and TV station owner - and lay the groundwork for going public with his story. Ostensibly, for the sake of clearing Dinah's name. He did care about Dinah; but he also had an agenda of his own, which Reva had wholeheartedly endorsed.

He planned to use his recent exploits to get himself elected DA, via write-ins.

_Hmm. "Exploit" is a very apt word here!_

He didn't have any guilt feelings about that. He'd be a much better DA than either of the two announced candidates; and as a bonus, he wouldn't be beholden to either party.

He meant to tell Reva he felt up to going ahead with it.

But at the moment, she was thinking of something else.

x

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She looked at him, and said solemnly, "There's something I have to tell you. Something I feel terribly guilty about."

Guilty? Her?

He knew it wasn't her having agreed to go away with Josh. He'd told her a dozen times that she'd done the right thing, exactly what he would have wanted her to do - for her sake and Colin's - if he'd really been dead.

_If I say that a few more times, I'll have __**myself**__ believing it._

But he remembered now that before he made love to her Saturday night - without a condom - he'd assured her that his dick hadn't been inside anyone else, the whole time he'd been away. No streetwalkers, no high-priced call girls, no meaningless one-night stands. _No one_.

Had _she_ been with someone? Josh had told him _he_ and Reva hadn't been intimate. But that didn't rule out someone else. And Jeffrey's assurance about his fidelity, meant to let her know he was disease-free, might actually have caused her distress.

"Reva," he said now, "if you were with another man - _any_ other man - it's all right! Nothing you need to feel guilty about. _You believed I was dead_."

But she was shaking her head. "No, no! This isn't about sex, about anything I actually did. It's what I _didn't_ do.

"I've had guilt feelings since I learned you were alive. But last night, I saw and heard and _shared_ some of the horror you've experienced this past year. And now the guilt is unbearable.

"When your plane went down, off the North Carolina coast? You know Josh and I went to the scene. Jeffrey, there was a witness, who told the Coast Guard he'd seen - from a distance - a man coming out of the water, with clothes on!

"But then divers saw that dead body in the plane, that couldn't safely be brought up. Everyone thought you'd been alone. And the witness admitted he couldn't be sure the 'clothes' he'd seen weren't a wetsuit - meaning, someone who'd just been diving for recreation.

"So everyone gave up. And I _let_ them give up. But that witness really had seen you! I should have kept fighting, _insisted_ they continue the search!

"Josh was willing to keep going as long as I wanted, even pay for the search himself. But _I gave up_. And I'll never forgive myself."

x

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He'd let her spill it all out.

_Now it's time to bare __**my**__ soul. As I should have done already._

x

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x

He took her hands in his, looked into her eyes, and said, "You damn well _will_ forgive yourself, Reva. It worked out for the best!"

When she opened her mouth to protest, he said, "I listened to your whole story. Now you listen to me, okay?"

She said meekly, "Okay."

"To begin with...in light of all the facts you mentioned, 'giving up' was the right choice. The only reasonable choice.

"At that point, your main responsibility was to Colin. And the searchers had families, too. It wouldn't have been right to keep them neglecting their families, for a search they had every reason to believe would be fruitless.

"If anyone was at fault, it was me, for not informing the airport in Key West that I'd taken a passenger aboard. The Coast Guard's knowing one person was unaccounted-for would, of course, have changed everything. But they _didn't_ know - and neither did you.

"I'm glad, though, that you didn't. Because I was serious when I said it worked out for the best.

"If you'd found me then, I was injured badly enough that I would have let people convince me to spend, maybe, a few days in a hospital. And then I would have agreed to come home with you."

Despite her promise to hear him out, Reva butted in. "Well, of course! With your testimony to back up Dinah's about Edmund being alive - and with his just having tried to kill you - the proper agencies would have gone after him. There wouldn't have been any more need for you to risk your life."

"That's what I would have thought," he told her. "But consider this. I'd been headed for North Carolina because I thought I was on Edmund's trail. But I didn't know why he was going there. For all I knew, it could have been a false lead.

"I would have told the authorities North Carolina could have been a random destination Edmund had steered me to, just so I'd have a long enough flight from Key West that the sabotaged plane would be sure to give out. So they might not have focused on that area at all.

"_I didn't know Jonathan and Sarah were in North Carolina_. And _you_ didn't know either, did you?"

Her eyes widened. She obviously hadn't thought of that. Now she said slowly, "No."

"I'm not claiming something terrible would necessarily have happened to Jonathan or Sarah if I hadn't met up with them. Jonathan knew Edmund was coming. And that son of yours is strong and resourceful, just like you. He might even have killed Edmund, in a situation that was clearly self-defense or defense of his child.

"But on the other hand, Sarah _might_ have been kidnapped. One or both of them _might_ have died. We can't know what would have happened, in any scenario except the one that actually played out."

Reva looked shaken, but she nodded. After a beat, she said softly, "I love you all the more for seeing it that way."

But he wasn't through. "I have to tell you the rest of it.

"Reva, if Jonathan or Sarah had died, it would have been _my fault._

"I've told you what Dinah and I did in Bosnia. But I sort of skimmed over it, didn't encourage you to dwell on it. Think about it now. To get Edmund to show himself, we _tricked him into thinking his dead daughter was alive! _The cruelest thing imaginable to do to someone, even your worst enemy.

"I justified it by reminding myself that just recently - leaving the past out of it - he'd murdered Roc Hoover and his own double, and tried to kidnap both Colin and Henry. And I still don't regret what I did, in any moral sense.

"But I'm sure it was my doing something that cruel to him that drove him to target Jonathan and Sarah. And I _do_ regret my _thoughtlessly endangering them_. If any harm had come to them, _I'd_ be the one never forgiving myself. With very good reason."

He'd half-expected Reva to pull her hands away from his. But she didn't.

Instead, she took a long, shuddering breath. Then she said quietly, "Jeffrey...I think Edmund's payback was his forcing you to keep the truth from me. That did to me the exact opposite of what you'd done to him - made me think a living loved one was dead, rather than a dead loved one alive. Even more cruel, because it went on so long.

"But I'm not the slightest bit critical of you. He'd committed crimes that couldn't be tolerated, and he might have been planning more. You _had to _get confirmation of your theory that he was still alive, as quickly as possible.

"I'm not convinced it was your fault he went after Jonathan and Sarah. He might have targeted them in any case.

"Like you said, he'd tried to avenge Lara's death - before he knew about Henry - by kidnapping and raising Colin, who was no kin at all to him. Later, if he'd had to give up on the idea of snatching his grandson Henry, Sarah would have seemed like a perfect second choice. Better than Henry, in some respects.

"A girl, his grandniece, to take the place of his daughter. The name 'Sarah' even rhymes with the unusual way his daughter pronounced _her_ name!"

Jeffrey hadn't thought of that last point. But he wasn't willing to let himself off the hook. He said stubbornly, "But _finding_ Jonathan was a monumental task. Alan hadn't been able to do it! It must have cost Edmund a small fortune. And consumed a lot of his own time and effort, as well as his henchmen's. I don't think he would have taken on something that difficult if I hadn't...in a way, _tortured_ him.

"He would have been content to focus on me. Just two hunters, more or less evenly matched, caught up in a deadly chase."

"Well, that certainly is what it turned into." Reva gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I'll thank God, every day of my life, that my hunter - my knight in shining armor! - came out on top. Wherever Edmund died, _you_ were 'on top' in the sense that _mattered_."

Then her tone changed completely. In a brisk, no-nonsense voice, she said, "And now I'll stop beating up on _my_self if you'll stop beating up on _your_self. Deal?"

He couldn't resist her. He said thankfully, "Deal" - and could have sworn that he felt an actual burden lifted from his shoulders.

He kissed her on the lips.

On and beyond the lips.

x

x

x

After a few minutes' companionable silence, they talked about the plan for that day. Agreed it was still on, and shared some laughs about how amazed the public would be on learning of Jeffrey's return. "Yes, think of them as 'the public.' Don't slip into the habit of calling them 'the electorate'!"

They hadn't stirred off the couch. But Reva said happily, "You seem to have a lot more energy this morning."

"Mmm. A certain part of me is getting _very_ lively." He guided her hand to the body part in question.

"Oh my! Are you looking to get laid?"

"You bet I am!"

But when he reached for her, she surprised him by saying, "Not here."

Prudish about making love on the couch? That didn't seem like her...

"You know the history of this house," she told him.

"Uh, yes." He was more interested in leaving his own mark.

"No man but you has ever made love to me in our bed. But I can't say the same for the bed_room._

"Or the living room. Or, unfortunately, this couch."

He was puzzled. "Do you really care?"

She grinned. "No. I'd gladly jump your bones here if I couldn't think of a better place.

"But I _can_ think of a better place. The room that's _ours_, all ours."

A smile spread slowly across his face. "You really want to do it again on the kitchen floor?"

Where he'd made passionate love to her, in the middle of the day, before leaving for the "hardware store" - really, taking off in pursuit of Edmund. He'd let her think it was just a wacky impulse, when he'd known they might never see each other again.

"_Yes!_ The most romantic spot in the world!"

"Okay. But if your creaky old husband gets down on the floor today, you may have to help him up."

"Oh, I think my creaky old husband will move just fine, when I come after him with the hose from the sink."

"What? You're gonna spray me again?"

"Look on the bright side. This time, you won't have your street clothes on!"

They shed what little they _were_ wearing on their way to the kitchen.

x

x

x

Twenty minutes later, the baby monitor informed them Colin had begun yammering for attention.

Just as an already-drenched Jeffrey turned the hose on Reva.

x

x

x

The End


End file.
